


Aftermath: Parts One and Two

by FanOfManyFictions (orphan_account)



Series: All That Came Before - Additions to Mighty of Arm and Warmest of Heart [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Breakup, Desire, F/M, Friendship, Heartbreak, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 08:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10693170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/FanOfManyFictions
Summary: This is supplemental background drabbles for my fanfic "Mighty of Arm and Warmest of Heart." In can be enjoyed alone or in conjunction, whichever you choose.It is the immediate aftermath of the breakup between Serrine Lavellan and Solas.





	Aftermath: Parts One and Two

Part One

He waited for her. Waited for her fury, her disapproval, her broken heart scorching him like dragon-fire. It did not come, but still, he waited. He had not seen her in the days since their separation since he removed the vallaslin from her face and made her perfect again, the way she deserved to be. Books, maps, parchments with information lay open before him but his mind was too distracted to absorb any of it, her sad eyes and the strain in her voice haunting his every waking moment. The chair was hard and unforgiving with the amount he was sitting in it lately. He had expected her to pass him by, at least on her way to the battlements, or to speak to the Commander. She must have settled for taking the long way round, Solas thought to himself, to avoid him. He wanted her to come scream at him, to push him like she had that night, at least he would see her and touch her again. He knew that she had continued to travel completing important work for the inquisition, but he was no longer welcome.

“Casual dalliance.” The words he was ordered to assign to her replaying over and over in his mind. He wished he could tell her everything, to lay his soul bare at her feet and to kiss them until he was forgiven. He was burdened by purpose, a purpose that he could not abandon. His insides were tearing apart, indescribable pain infecting his entire existence. He felt dead, cut-off from the world before her, and now that she created light and wonder in his life he despised having to let her go. She would never know how much it hurt him, and she could never know. He was weak the night they ended things. He told himself many times that he is just to remove her vallaslin and nothing more. But the veil tingling against their skin and her eyes in the moonlight were all too much. He kissed her selfishly and then let her go. He had convinced himself all this time that he was not a monster, but to shatter the heart of someone so pure and innocent, a monster he had become.

The door to the rotunda swung open, snapping up his attention and causing him to hold his breath. His excitement rose at the possibility of her glorious frame coming towards him, her eyes sharp and lips pursed. He was disappointed when Dorian sauntered towards him, mildly irritated by the way he pinched the tip of his mustache.

“So that’s it then?” Dorian asked in his normal seemingly pleasant tone.

“You’re going to need to be more specific, after all, I am but a humble elf. I do not read minds.” Another lie. Solas knew exactly what Dorian was referring to, but he needed to maintain an air of complacency. Dorian was unamused and his anger flew quickly to the surface. He slammed his fists on the table causing a sharp noise to echo, resonating within Solas.

 

“That girl that you so easily pushed aside. That girl that gave her time and attention to you in the midst of this insane war. That girl that you made fall in love with you –“

“I forced nothing on her,” Solas regretted every word, but he had to continue his performance. It was the only thing giving him the strength to not go to her.

“Ar lath ma vhenan,” Dorian hissed leaning towards Solas’ face, “She told me everything. You said it first. Did you expect her not to follow? Then you take her to this place where the ‘veil is thin’ to show her what she means to you.” His poor attempt at recreating Solas’ voice made Solas want to laugh. Laughing would at least relieve the building pressure in his chest. He knew that if he did, the rotunda would soon be alight with magic, as Dorian surely would have attacked him. His resistance in doing so now, Solas believed, was for Serrine’s sake, not his.

“I admitted to her my shortcomings and my faults for distracting her.”

“Distraction? Distraction? A distraction is a fly landing on your nose, not a man telling you that he loves you and then leaving you by a pond shrine heartbroken.” Dorian’s rage was palpable. “What puzzles me is that you are lying about not wanting to be with her, and yet you sit here allowing her to suffer.”

Solas’ ears twitched at the accuracy of Dorian’s words. For a moment, fear spun his head around, causing suspicion towards the exact nature of Dorian’s knowledge. Was Solas so transparent that his sorrow was laid bare anyway? He caught the furious mage’s eyes and stared at them, hoping to see any signs that Dorian knew who he truly was. He could read nothing but Dorian’s rage and sadness.

“She is the Inquisitor. I was selfish in thinking that I could take her time and focus away from the coming battles. She needs to be prepared and focused. She can sharpen her hate against me and wield it as a blade towards Corypheus.”

“You are unspeakably cruel.” Dorian’s voice lowered to a whisper as he pushed his hands off of the table and made his way for the exit. “Don’t go near her again. We will surely need you in the final battle, but if I see you trying to snake your way back into her heart…” His voice trailed off and he left, knowing that Solas understood perfectly what he would do.

Part Two

Cullen’s head was throbbing, and the lack of lyrium was making his bones ache. He tried to sleep, but all his attempts had resulted in a worse headache and frustrating restlessness. The night air was cold without his fur, but he did not see the need to dress in full armor to sit at the war table by himself and go over their various mission strategies. The end was nearing. The battle with Corypheus loomed over all of them, most of all their Inquisitor. He had not seen her in near a week. He knew she had traveled and completed missions; however, she did not return to the war table personally to debrief them. Instead, she had written several letters accounting what happened. He wondered if she was alright, but dismissed the thoughts quickly. His heart ached for her as much as his body ached for lyrium. Focusing on her would do him no good. She was with Solas and he had been working very hard to remind himself of this fact daily.

The war room was dark with only moonlight shining through the window when he entered. He took his time trying to locate and light the candles about the room when he heard breathing. Sobbing.

“Is someone there?” he called into the darkness.

“Yes,” a broken voice responded. He could recognize her voice anywhere, for only it had the power to make his heart flutter in his chest.

“Serr—I mean, Inquisitor?” He busied himself with the candle light, bathing the room in a warm glow. She was curled up in the far corner, so small in fact, it seemed like she was trying to disappear inside herself. “I’m sorry, I was unaware anyone was here.” She lifted her tear stained face, her eyes blood red around the bright circles of gray. Her hair was untamed around her, waves and curled ends sticking out from everywhere, the tips of her pointed ears struggling to make it through.

She stood up dragging her hands across her cheek and clearing her throat. She did not know anyone came to the war room so late. She had been here every night crying since Solas left her. She needed to cry in the place that reminded her that there was more to the Inquisition than him. She was the additional map that marked the suffering that came along with their cause.

He was surprised at how quickly she composed herself in front of him. Despite her swollen features from crying, if anyone were to walk in now, they would think she was perfectly fine. Her ability to hide her suffering worried him.

“No need to apologize, Commander.” Her voice was strong and clear, not a trace of sorrow.

“What’s wrong?” he asked tenderly. She looked on at him, silently debating whether to open the floodgates of her emotions or to silently retreat to her quarters where she could howl into the down pillow, alone.

“I –“ she started but the words were swallowed down.

He scratched the back of his neck, averting his gaze to the floor. Everything he felt for her that he was constantly working to lock away was escaping. His fingers wanted to rake through her hair and brush the tears from her cheeks. He mentally scolded himself for thinking selfishly in this moment.

“It may not be my place,” he started, forcing himself to look into her eyes, “but I’d like to think we are friends. You have come to me in concern and kindness during my hardships, I hope you know you can come to me just the same.” He was breathless after this statement, his heart beating so quickly he may as well have told her he was in love with her.

She remained still. Curse his kindness. Curse all men’s kindness, she thought. Rage and misery were battling for sole occupation of her heart and she was too weak to fight back. She felt her eyes welling with fresh tears, and without thought she raced to him, throwing her arms around him so hard he staggered backward, as she sobbed into his chest.

Cullen stood dumbfounded for a few moments, his hands up in the air as if she had pointed a sword at him. He felt her hot breath sharp and fast, warming the cotton shirt against his chest. His mind latched on to some focus and he wrapped his arms around her. He felt her knees giving way and lowered himself with her to the floor. The heat of frustration radiated from her and with the remainder of his abilities, he could feel the magic pulsating wildly within her. He was not scared, he was concerned. He sat there in silence as her body shook violently against him, her sadness leaving her forcefully.

She did not care what he was thinking holding her like this. She did not care if he did not respect her again after seeing her like this. She could hold it back no longer. The more her wretched sobs left her throat, the more it felt good to finally release it to someone. She had avoided everyone completely, completing all of her recent missions alone. She felt it better they not see their leader shipwrecked on the shores of her own misguided affections. She hated Solas, but not more than she hated herself.

When he felt her body settle against him, and her sobbing retreat to soft hiccuped sighs, he wondered if she would be uncomfortable with their position. It was difficult to focus on her pain when his body was happily coming alive at her touch. She was warm and smelled of honeyed wine and rosewater. When he felt her grab tighter to him, he reciprocated, his muscles tensing and pulling her in closer. He would remain there happily as long as she wanted him to.

“Solas,” she whispered into his chest. “It’s over.”

Cullen wanted to leap up and dance around the room with joy. He bit on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling. He was terrible for being happy at her despair, but those words meant that he would never have to see them together again, and perhaps, it would be possible for him to…Maker, Cullen, you selfish bastard, he thought to himself, tasting the blood from where his teeth had finally cut him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back burying his nose in her hair.

“He tricked me into believing…he…I…” her voice trailed, the words once again being swallowed into her stomach. “I was a fool for loving him. A distraction, that’s all I was to him and that’s all he wanted to be.”

“You are no fool. If your love was a mere distraction to him, then he can count himself among the damned.”

Cullen’s words breathed some hope into her small weak frame. Her hate and love for Solas danced dangerously close together, hard to separate in their swirling. It was then she noticed how Cullen had been holding her and flushed deeply from the embarrassment of it all. She could feel his tensed chest muscles behind the thin cotton of his night shirt. His breathing was steady, but she could hear his heartbeat, unsteady and fast. She wondered if she was upsetting him.

“I’m sorry to bother you.” She said, attempting to pull away from him. His arms stayed tight and warm around her, causing her to relinquish her venture to get away.

“No apology necessary, Inquisitor.”

“Can we stay here for a few more minutes,” she asked, the silliness of the question causing the red in her face to deepen. She felt his arms squeeze her lightly.

“We can stay for as long as you’d like.”


End file.
